An Unwilling Tribute
by nightl0ck
Summary: When Clove is chosen to volunteer as tribute, she faces her inevitable death.
1. Chosen

I listen intently to my instructor teach some more combat techniques, while grabbing my favorite knife from the table. I resume carving into the side of the desk, barely paying any attention to my instructor now. I finally finish, and I stare at the letters fixedly. _Cato_. Right now I am thankful that the boys part of the academy is separated from ours keep us more... Focused. That is definitely what I need, more focus.

"Now class, the reaping is in 3 days. It's time to see who our top student is. And as always, she will be our volunteer for this year." She has my full attention now. I just hope it's not me. But it can't be me; I'm not even 18 yet.

"The top student for this year is Clove Cadon. Congratulations Clove, you will be representing district 2 in the Hunger Games this year." My heart is beating furiously, and a cold sweat breaks out all over my body. _This can't be happening_.

"But Ms. Toreta, this doesn't make sense. I'm not even 18 yet!" I object.

"My dear, your skills with a knife have put you at the top of the class. It does not matter if you are not 18. If you possess skill, there is a possibility that you will be chosen as a tribute." She says flatly. I stare down, contemplating what could happen in the arena, when I catch sight of those letters that were carved into my desk. _Cato_. I'm not sure what to do. I'm certainly going to volunteer- I have to- but I don't know how to tell everyone that I might be dead in a few weeks.

"Hey Clove, how was class?" Cato asks me, giving me a hug.

"Oh fine, nothing special." _Yeah_ _right_.

"Nothing special? Weren't the district tributes chosen today?" He laughs.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Who was chosen as the boy tribute?" I ask.

"Dorell Rimos. Who is our girl tribute this year?" I gulp, trying to make up a story on the spot.

"It's uh, Liece Fisca." I lie. I know I can't tell Cato the truth, but I can't just choose not to participate in the Games. Because even here in district 2, we are forced to fight. Though it seems we are all bloodthirsty animals, we're not much different than the kids in the outlying districts. Most of us don't really want to fight either, but we train for our own survival- to get rid of the competition as fast as possible so we can return home. We put on our masks and pretend we enjoy watching kids like us die. We do it for the Capitol, because if they ever get bored, who knows what they can unleash in that arena.

I am able to keep the fact that I'm this year's volunteer far away from Cato. I decide to just enjoy my last few days with him and my family, before I am forced to say _I volunteer as tribute_.


	2. The Reaping

(Cato's POV)  
I finish putting on my only suit, which is all black and one size too big for me. My father gave it to me a few years ago, telling me not to ruin it because I would be wearing it a lot. I face the mirror to tie my tie, and once I'm satisfied that it looks right, I go next door to Clove's house. Climbing up the front steps, I knock softly on the door. Her mother answers it, welcoming me politely. She's quite short, with jet-black hair that cascades down her back. I have never realized how much Clove and her mother look alike until now. She quickly ushers me in, and I make my way down the hall. In the bedroom, Clove is standing with her back to me, looking in the mirror and pinning her hair up. I come and hug her from behind, admiring her in the mirror. Her dress stops just above her knees, and it's a soft blue, my favorite color.

"Clove, you look...stunning." I say.

"thanks." She responds nervously. Or at least I think it's nerves. I have never seen her act this way before, but it's too strange. I don't like it.

"Better hurry kids, the reaping is going to start soon." Mrs. Cadon yells from down the hall.

"Alright, we'll be right out." I call back.

"We better go." Clove says sadly. Her behaviour is worrying me a bit, but I decide not to ask her about it. We walk down the road and into the center of our district in silence. As people flood the square, I spot the district 2 escort, Recida Pinhart in front of the justice building. She's wearing a pastel green wig and a pink blazer with matching pants, which are lined with fur. She can hardly walk in the sequined high heels that are on her feet. They match her wig, nails, and makeup, which is plastered on her face. I stand with the other boys my age and try to find Clove, but I lost her in the crowd. I can't wait for this to be over, so I can finally leave the training school and get a real job.

"Welcome, district 2! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour." She speaks in her thick capitol accent. Since the people of my district always volunteer to be in the games, we don't even have a reaping ball. Recida just asks who the year's volunteer is, and gets straight to the point.

"Now, ladies first. Who will have the pleasure of representing your district this year?" She asks shrilly. It seems as if everyone in the square is holding their breath, unwilling to make a sound. I'm expecting to see Liece Fisca step forward and volunteer, but she doesn't. It seems like an eternity before the volunteer decides to speak up. I recognize her voice instantly, and that's when I realize that Liece Fisca wasn't chosen to volunteer.

Clove was.


	3. Acting on Impulse

I watch in terror as she steps up to the stage. I'm paralyzed, watching the girl that I love volunteer to die. _What was she thinking? _Suddenly, the instinct to protect Clove comes alive, and I'm surging through the crowd, trying to find Dorell. Once I locate him, I quietly grab him from behind and wrap my arm around his neck, suffocating him. I keep the hold until I feel him go limp. _Good, he'll be out just long enough for me to volunteer for him,_ I think. A few people that were near Dorell stare at me, but in their eyes, I see pity. They know how much I love her. So they stay silent.

"Now, who among you young men would like to volunteer?" Recida chirps happily.

"Me." I growl, walking up to the stage.

"Well, who might you be, young man?" She asks.

"Cato Fayson." I look at Clove, and I can see the fear and sadness, barely hidden behind her mask of indifference.

"Well, there you have it. I present to you, the tributes from district 2, Clove Cadon and Cato Fayson!" Clove and I shake hands, and then we are quickly whisked into the justice building. They usher us into two separate rooms for the visitation period, but all I want right now is to be by Clove's side. My first visitors come immediately. MY PARENTS. They tell me everything is going to be all right, but I know it won't be. Either I will die, or Clove will. Maybe both of us. I know that they can sense that too, so instead of rejecting their comforting words, I just nod and give them both a tight hug.

My next visitor is Dorell Rimos. He comes in, absolutely furious.

"Why did you do that? I was supposed to volunteer, not you." He yells. I just stay silent. "I don't know what you think you can gain with taking my place in the Games. Either way, you'll lose. You would have been better off letting me protect Clove."

I just stare at him sadly. Suddenly his expression softens, and he adopts a more comforting tone. He tells me to take care, and leaves the room. Moments later, a peacekeeper comes to escort me to the train. As soon as we've boarded, I look for Clove. Once I find her I embrace her, saying nothing.

"You shouldn't have done that." She murmurs into my chest.

"Well, you didn't really give me a choice." I say. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to spoil the last few days we had together. And I didn't want you to do something stupid. Like this."

"Too late." We stand in silence for a few more minutes before Clove looks up at me.

"What if we're the last two left?" She asks worriedly. I think for a moment before responding.

"Then we'll split up the remaining food and go our separate ways. I'm _not_ going to kill you Clove, no matter what happens."


	4. The Train

(Clove's POV)

Recida finds us still locked in an embrace. She clears her throat softly, announcing her presence, and tells us we need to be in our assigned cabins.

"Recida, if it's okay, I would like to share a cabin with Clove." Cato says.

"Well young man, I must say that this is highly unorthodox. And probably against the rules," She scolds. I can just barely see past her mask. Behind her silly Capitol facade, there is a real person. A person who understands what we are about to endure.

While walking us through the train, she prattles on about how this shouldn't be allowed, and the fact that it's bad manners. But when she opens the door to our compartment, she gives a sad smile that seems to say _I'm sorry_.

"I'll come fetch you two when it's time for dinner," she tells us before closing the door. Cato sets our bags down and turns back to me. I don't even realize that I'm crying until I feel him wipe a stray tear from my cheek.

"Cato, I'm so sorry. For everything," I apologize. I bury my face into his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears.

"It's okay, you don't have to apologize." He holds me tight to his chest, and his steady heartbeat calms me slightly. "I'm going to make sure you win, Clove."

I find myself crying even more now. I hate the Capitol, and everything they stand for. They're already tearing us apart.

We fall asleep for a few hours before Recida comes back. She takes us to the dining cart, which is filled with much more food than we could ever eat. Some of the foods I recognize, but some are completely foreign to me. I just stick to what I know, staying away from foods like the purple slop across the room.

Just as Cato and I finish eating, our mentors come in. Cato's mentor looks quite intimidating, but I know that he was actually quite kind. He's tall and stocky, and there is a scar that runs from the top of his head and past his eye, to his ear. Both of his eyes would be blue, if not for the damage done to his right one. He has a handmade leather eye patch on it, successfully hiding it from view. His name is Bennett Adler, our most recent victor.

My mentor is Esmine Hale, who won a few years before Bennett. She's dark-skinned and muscular, with short black hair that looks as if its never been brushed. Her tired green eyes look upon me kindly as she introduces herself.

"We should get right down to training, we can't waste any time," She tells us. Normally the tributes train separately, but she must've already known that we would want to be together.

"The two of you are going to make an alliance with Districts One and Four. With you running in a pack, you'll be able to last longer," Esmine says.

"But whatever you do, don't trust any of them. I made that mistake, and ended up with this," Bennett growls, pointing to his scar.

I barely suppress a shudder as I recall how he got it. There were only eight tributes left, and the girl from 4 knew her chances of winning weren't good. There was five left in their pack, and they were _much_ stronger than her. So she made a plan to kill them all while they were sleeping.

She finished off Bennett's district partner, and the boy from 1. Then she went to slit Bennett's throat, but he woke up before she even had the chance. He killed her, but not before she left him with a huge gash across his face.

I get distracted when I see Bennett take some bright red pills, not even bothering to wash them down with water. His injury healed a long time ago, but I have a feeling he still uses them to help his mental health. Inspecting the drugs closer, I recognize what it is. It's a special, highly addictive painkiller, which people are only supposed to use for severe injuries.

I had to take them once, when my training partner accidentally stabbed me. We were training with knives, and I was trying to teach her to throw them. She missed, and the knife went right into my leg. I can still remember the look on Cato's face that day. That was the first time he told me he loved me.

"Clove?" Cato's voice shakes me out if my reverie. I snap back to reality, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"What?"

"I said, make friends with the other careers. You'll need to intimidate the other tributes, even during training," Bennett's says, irritated.

"And one more thing," Esmine starts, pushing a paper across the table. The writing on it is small and messy, but I'm able to read it clearly.

_Don't let them see the real you._

"What do you-" I begin, but Cato puts a hand on my shoulder, silencing me. My eyes widen as I realize what they meant.

I can't be in love with Cato.


End file.
